I am a master in India

Chapter 298 Beyond imagination
Ron had never seen such a grand wedding; it was completely beyond his imagination.

It seemed as if everyone in Madras had gathered together, blocking the entire street and making it completely impassable.

On September 7, Jayalalita's adopted son, Sudakaram, married the granddaughter of famous Tamil film star Sivaji Ghanesan.

As the groom's elder and nominal parent, Jayalalita's residence was used as the starting point for the groom's departure.

The wedding will be held at a Hindu Vedic temple, about five kilometers from the apartment in Jayalarita.

Not to mention the various large convoys, there were more than thirty police cars alone maintaining order, and all of them had red and blue lights on their roofs.

It's blatant misuse of public resources, but nobody cares.

Once outside, the extravagant tip of this wedding, destined to go down in history, was revealed.

The streets leading to the temple were filled with celebration, with rose petals scattered everywhere.

Yes, rose petals covered a full five kilometers.

From a distance, it looks like a rose-colored red carpet, so vibrant it seems unreal.

Jayalalita stood on a car decorated as a Hindu chariot, similar to the processions in Gujarat.

Indian political parties love to do this; they try to involve gods and religion in everything they do.

The convoy moved forward slowly, and people along the roadside kept throwing flower petals at the cars in the middle of the road.

Tiny flower petals were scattered all over the car roof, hood, and windows, turning into dust as the wheels rolled over them.

You think that's all? No, rose petals are just a small trinket.

Along both sides of the road are rows of glittering Greek columns, adorned with colorful lights that shimmer and shine.

These pillars were all made specifically for the wedding, and they also stretch for five kilometers, totaling six hundred pillars.

The Greek columns also feature alluring poses by ancient Indian princes, each with a unique design.

Ron, sitting in the car, took a closer look and concluded that the sculpture must be made of paper; otherwise, such a massive project would take a year to complete.

"How many people actually came to the wedding today?" he wondered.

"I don't know, but there must be at least 100,000 people," Kavia said enviously.

"My God!" Ron exclaimed in disbelief.

He turned to look out the window; the road was packed with people on both sides. There were reporters, police officers, and mostly ordinary citizens, men, women, young and old.

Most of them were poor, and they crowded forward to join the fun, each with wide eyes.

That look in his eyes was one of envy, longing, and resentment.

"The newspapers in Tamil say that today's wedding will be the largest wedding in Indian history, enough to be recorded in the Guinness World Records."

“This isn’t good, honey,” Ron warned.

"Why?" Kavia asked, puzzled.

"Your aunt is too much of a show-off. This is her godson's wedding, but the whole event revolves around her."

Look at this lavish setup outside; it must have cost a fortune. It's hard not to speculate, and the opposition won't let this rare opportunity slip by.

“Ron, this is India, and everyone loves to have big weddings.”

"Yes, except for Guinness World Records."

Everything should be done in moderation, especially for public figures. With the election just a few months away, this is practically handing ammunition to their opponents.

Ultimately, it was Jayalalita's arrogance that led him to reach the pinnacle of power for the first time, leaving him with nowhere to vent his desires.

Perhaps she also wanted to use this wedding to demonstrate her influence to the outside world, as the Indian people sometimes develop a sense of admiration for important figures.

However, she forgot that this was Tamil, where people do not have a good impression of high castes.

What they want to see is an improvement in the lives of ordinary people, not just some big shot flaunting their wealth.

The convoy took a full hour to travel the five-kilometer distance.

As we approached the temple, the entrance to the wedding venue came into view.

It was the gate of a fortress made of marble, topped with cannons and winged mythical creatures.

Clearly, this was also prepared specifically for a wedding; it was incredibly grand.

Guests come and go from here to enter the wedding venue, where a 50-acre area has been set up at the temple entrance.

Yes, 20 hectares, more than 300 mu, or more than 20 square meters.

Kavia said there were 100,000 people attending the wedding, but Ron knew it was far more than that.

He happened to run into Malan, where Poom TV was doing a live broadcast.

"How many people are attending the wedding today?" Ron asked.

“More than 150,000.” Ma Lan wiped her sweat.

He secured the exclusive broadcasting rights to the wedding and is now personally monitoring the monitors.

This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to promote Poom TV and attract subscribers.

"Who are all these people?" Ron looked at the crowded venue and his breath hitched.

“There are all sorts of people here: politicians, businessmen, relatives and friends, but most of all, they are my mother’s supporters.”

"They're all eating here?"

"Yes, guests are welcome, and the seating has been arranged long ago."

The so-called seating area was actually just a long carpet laid on the floor, with banana leaves placed at intervals.

Those were everyone's tableware, densely packed. There were thousands of such carpets on the 50-acre site, each hundreds of meters long.

However, since it was a wedding, the square was decorated with artificial fountains, sculptures, flower baskets, and various other decorations.

Everyone sat directly on the floor, while the servants who served the food walked barefoot on the carpet. They carried buckets and added sticky food to each banana leaf.

The first thing that came to Ron's mind was feeding pigs.

That's right, it's like the pigsty where the farmer adds feed to the troughs, and then a group of pigs stand in a row and stick their heads in.

"Your television set also played a big role!" Ma Lan said with a smile, pointing to the seat next to her.

Every two or three people there, a Suer color TV was set up, showing a live broadcast of the wedding.

150,000 people were too many; the temple could not accommodate them all, so ordinary guests could only watch the proceedings on television from the outside.

See, money can get you anything. Suer Electric provides the televisions, and Poom TV provides the live broadcast.

Not only the guests at the wedding, but everyone in Tamil watching Poom TV will see the grand occasion of today's wedding.

"That's quite a sum," Ron exclaimed.

"I heard that just setting up this venue cost 1500 million rupees, and the food alone cost over 2000 million rupees. That's number one in India!"

"What about the whole wedding?"

"There must be tens of millions of dollars."

Damn, at the current exchange rate, that's probably close to a billion rupees.

The combined monthly profits of Suer Electric's four factories across India amount to about this much.

They're so arrogant it's completely unreasonable.

"Are all these expenses paid by the woman?" Ron asked curiously.

“Who knows?” Ma Lan smiled and shrugged.

According to Indian custom, the bride's family is responsible for organizing the wedding.

The bride's grandfather is a movie star, but isn't that a bit too much?

Ron was well aware, at least, that the money for the television set was not paid by the woman.

Those sitting outside are mostly ordinary guests, many of whom are there to join in the fun and try to get something for free.

Important figures like Ron and Kavia naturally went inside the temple.

Leaving aside the priests' various elaborate rituals, many of the politicians present, in addition to blessing the bride and groom, also touched Jayalalita's feet in a gesture of respect.

In full view of everyone, many members of the opposition party were prostrate on the ground.

The aura of a demigod is evident.

Cameras and video cameras kept snapping pictures at her, and Jayalalita smiled broadly.

That's outrageous, extremely outrageous! The bride and groom were completely overshadowed.

After completing the rituals at the temple, they went to a five-star hotel in Madras for their wedding banquet.

How could high-ranking officials and nobles eat that kind of pig feed?

Those on the ground are alms given to ordinary supporters and the poor.

At the hotel, Ron also discussed a business deal with Maran and several Tamil cable TV companies.

For the next year, all customers who purchase a Sull TV will receive a free one-quarter subscription to Poom TV.

The cable TV operator is responsible for on-site installation; the three companies work together to provide a one-stop service.

As compensation for the channel, Suer Electric will take 10% of the TV station's first year's advertising revenue.

To put it simply, Poom TV leveraged Suer Electric's massive sales volume to quickly acquire subscribers.

It's hard to say how many users will renew their subscriptions after one quarter.

But those who remain will make a net profit, which will definitely be much faster than Poom TV's own advertising.

Yes, this model is very instructive. After Ron prepared to return to Mumbai, SunTV followed suit.

After the grand wedding, he stayed in Madras for a few more days and also took the opportunity to inspect Poom TV.

Just as Ron had predicted, the mainstream media in Tamil suddenly began to launch a massive attack on Jayalalita's wedding for her adopted son.

Needless to say, this was the work of their arch-rival DMK.

Jayalalita was very unhappy with the media reports, saying they were discriminatory against her as a woman.

She claimed the wedding cost only 6000 million rupees and was paid for by the bride's family.

Unfortunately, the skepticism was too great, and not many people believed it.

Many poor people even took to the streets, waving flags and protesting, demanding that the courts review Jayalalita's assets.

This "grandmother" may have lost her mind, as she made a high-profile announcement that she would donate 5 color televisions to a backward constituency.

If the public protests against you, do you just shut them up with a television?
One stone stirs up a thousand waves, and the matter escalates.

Ron was worried for her. Shouldn't she keep a low profile at this time?
If I stay home and avoid going out for a few days, the storm will naturally pass.

She's still playing the same old angel network game.

This kind of thing is not suitable to be shown on camera, let alone used as a risk management tactic.

Perhaps sensing the negative public opinion, Jayalalita finally learned to keep a low profile and stopped giving interviews.

To avoid trouble, Ron also hurriedly left Madras and returned to Mumbai.

Those TVs were Sullair brand; who knows if a reporter will dig into his past?

In troublesome places, it's best to leave early.

Upon returning to Mumbai, Ron sensed something unusual about the streets.

There are more police outside; this is South Mumbai.

Gangs rarely cause trouble here because the big shots all live nearby.

The central and northern parts of Mumbai are where gang warfare frequently occurs.

Anil quickly went out to find out what was going on; there were quite a few people stationed there.

He returned in a hurry after only a few minutes.

“What happened?” Ron asked.

"Master, it's Daoud's gang and Johnny's group that are at war."

"Ok?"

"News of Hadhan's death has spread."

Ron understood; this was a gang fighting over territory.

The disappearance of the underground tycoon in South Mumbai has left a power vacuum, inevitably attracting the covetousness of outsiders.

This isn't over once Johnny resolves the internal conflict; the real danger lies with external enemies.

(End of this chapter)